


Arthur's Modeling Agency

by blktauna



Series: Dirty Knights [2]
Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drugged Sex, Drunk Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Model AU, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 11:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 18,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1647308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blktauna/pseuds/blktauna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Knights are now models. Because look at all those GQ shots...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red

"How was the party?" Galahad chirped as he heard Tristan slam the front door.

Tristan wandered into their bedroom shedding clothes and belching. He waggled his brows as he shoved his hand down the front of his track bottoms and made a great show of scratching his balls.

"Not bad. Shame you weren't there."

"Tristan... are you wearing what I think you're wearing?"

He blinked as Tristan yawned and tossed aside his bottoms and strolled towards their bed in very small, red lace panties. Galahad's tongue swiped over his plump bottom lip when he took in how Tristan was rapidly spilling out of them.

"Oh these?" He ran his finger under the very overstretched waistband and laughed as Galahad's eyes followed the motion greedily. "Eva thought you might like them. I said you would, just not on her." He Laughed and slid onto the bed. "I see you do like them, you perverted little twink."

Galahad growled and slid down between Tristan's spread thighs, rubbing his hands along the rough pattern of the fabric.

"I'm not the one wearing the panties... "

He pulled his nails over Tristan's arse cheeks, humming happily as Tristan groaned.

"No. But you are a little twink."

"Definitely."

Galahad mouthed his way over the lace covered bulge before him with gusto. Tristan smelled of beer, Eva's perfume and lavatory soap.

"How nice of you to clean up after," he said with a small nip.

Tristan grabbed a fist full of chocolate curls and shoved against Galahad's mouth. He groaned when a clever tongue dipped under the stressed elastic and swiped along his slit.

"Take all of it..." Tristan moaned.

Galahad did, easily, rolling the top elastic down enough to pop Tristan's cock free. He sucked eagerly, swallowing the whole length with the ease of long practice. Tristan's fingers held him tightly as his hips began to move, fucking into his mouth none too gently. Galahad bared his teeth at the treatment. Tristan growled a bit and backed off.

"Like that, baby... just like that."

Galahad pushed up on Tristan's arse until he tipped forward onto all fours. Then he wrapped his arms around Tristan's thighs and began to suck in earnest. He snapped the elastic against Tristan's skin every so often, getting a muffled curse along with a deep shove. He swallowed Tristan relentlessly, until his lover started quivering and swearing in Danish. He took Tristan all the way back and hollowed his cheeks. Tristan's hips froze for a moment then he bucked once, coming hard down Galahad's throat.

They stayed frozen for a moment until Tristan groaned and crumpled to the side. Galahad reluctantly let him go with a very wet pop and made a show of swallowing and wiping his lip.

"Third round for you?" Galahad teased as he shook his hair out and crawled up to flop into Tristan's arms.

"Asshole."

"Slut."

Tristan chuckled and kissed Galahad thoroughly.

\-----  
end 2014


	2. Festival de Cannes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit talking to the film people

Galahad spotted him taking a drag of his cigarette and looking decidedly evil. Apparently his schmoozing of "film people" as he put it was going well. Judging by the array of empty glasses on the table, well was probably an understatement.

"Tristan, darling," Galahad said as he sailed up to hover over his shoulder. "How are you doing?"

Galahad's eyes narrowed as several annoyed glances turned to him. He smiled angelicly and put on his best vapid but pretty face. He sighed to himself as the "film people" visibly relaxed.

"Great! They want me to do a gangster film. Where I'm like a Czech crazy gangster and I beat this guy up all the time."

Tristan's face glowed. He was keen to get into film since he saw it as a way to keep making money by using his looks in a more forgiving arena. At least Tristan thought it was forgiving. Galahad wasn't so sure. These people looked like sharks and he wasn't about to let some snakes from the colonies ruin his man's happiness.

"That sounds terribly exciting! Is this like for Hollywood?" he blinked at them smiling. As expected the lead one began to expound on the plan. Bragging about his contacts and everything they had lined up. Galahad ticked off the names for checking by his mother's cadre of solicitors. 

He had to admit, Tristan was glowing with the thought of being in a film and the prospect of watching him beat people us on a big screen definitely had appeal. Still it wouldn't do to let these people take advantage of him. Not even for a stripped to the waist, sweaty, dirty fantasy he'd have to put out of his mind now.

"Are you going to start soon? I can't wait to see all this!" he bounced happily in place, getting the shifty eyes he'd expected. The backpeddling began immediately and Galahad pouted prettily. Tristan began to laugh and stood.

"Well I'm very interested in what you've proposed but I think I need to consider it some more. Thank you gentlemen, I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."

Galahad grinned subtly as he pulled out his phone and began a message to his mother, as Tristan moved them towards the balcony. 

"What are you doing, little thundercoud?"

Galahad blushed every time Tristan called him that.

"Checking those people out."

"They're legit."

"Oh and you know this?"

"Darling, I'm not just a pretty face," Tristan chuckled and stole a grope while Galahad continued to type busily. "I had Bors connect me with some people he knew."

"Oh like Bors is the most legit guy around," he snarked while wriggling into Tristan's grip.

Tristan thought about that for a moment and shrugged.

"Point taken. But forget that, let's get drunk and screw."

"Good God Tristan is that all you think about?" Galahad laughed. He finished his text and sent it, freeing up his hands.

"When I'm standing next to you, yes, it is."


	3. Club Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tristan get busted and tries to apologise. Galahad takes liberties with Gawain.

Galahad stumbled into the back room, squinting against the dense smoke hanging in the air. 

"Tristan? Where the fuck are you?" he shouted, the edge of worry stealing in on his irritation. He’d been gone too long to just get a drink like he’d said. 

Galahad waved his glass in the air in the hope someone would fill it. No one did. He scowled and pushed his way through the crowd, eyes searching through the flashing lights and press of flesh. He stopped short at the sight of the redhead well settled in Tristan’s lap. He felt his cheeks heat as he pushed forward. Tristan didn’t even look up as the girl put her cigarette into his mouth. The girl did, though. She smirked at him right before she pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and glued hers to it. Galahad’s lips pressed into a snarl. 

"Get up…" he growled as he grabbed her by the hair and pulled. Tristan blinked at him, bleary eyed and confused as Galahad yanked the girl forcibly onto the floor. He smiled when the girl got up and lunged right back at Galahad. Fists flew, several landed. Galahad swore loudly when she landed a right, smack in the centre of his face. 

"I’ll fucking kill you!" He shouted, tripping over a quickly standing Tristan, who pulled a flailing Galahad into his arms and kissed him soundly. 

"You shouldn’t say that to the girl…" Tristan purred into Galahad’s mouth. 

"I mean you, you bastard!" he shouted, trying to get his knee in while biting at Tristan’s tongue. 

Tristan just laughed and hauled him out of the room, girl forgotton. 

"I love it when your jealous streak is showing." 

"You’re an asshole!" Galahad whined as Tristan’s hand slithered down the back of his jeans, groping roughly. "What are you doing?" 

"Showing you how much I like it when you fight over me." 

Galahad moaned shamelessly as Tristan hoisted him up and over his shoulder. He cut through the crowd ruthlessly, a few startled paps managing to snap some pictures after they’d passed. He negotiated a path to the back to the VIP rooms fairly quickly, elbowing the bouncer away and heading towards the sofas in the back. He zeroed in on the least crowded and tossed Galahad onto it, heedless of the lone occupant. He proceeded to undo Galahad’s jeans and fish him free of them as he slipped to his knees. 

“Hold on, baby…” Tristan grinned up at him. 

=== 

Gawain sat alone, fiddling with his phone. The crowd was too overwhelming and he’d already lost Tristan and Galahad in the sea of dancers. Lancelot and Arthur also seemed to be missing but he had an idea where they might be. Dagonet and Bors were at the bar getting legless. Bors was flirting with the one bartender he always flirted with and Dagonet just surveyed the crowd. He felt alone and bored. Someone was always volunteered to be the wrangler and it always seemed to be him. He hated being responsible. 

“Fuck… “ he sighed, pocketing his phone. No calls or texts. He rubbed his eyes and lay back on the sofa. He’d stay a few minutes more then he’d ditch them. Let Arthur mind the cats for one night. 

He must have dozed off for a moment because the next thing he knew, someone landed on him with a thud and a whine. 

“Hold on, baby…” he heard one of them say as the other proceeded to go down on him with grunts of appreciation. 

Gawain recognized Tristan and Galahad once they stopped flailing and began writhing. Just what he didn’t need to see. He tried to escape, but Galahad caught his wrist and held tightly, pulling him back down onto the sofa. 

“Hello there…” Galahad purred, smiling as his eyes nearly rolled back. 

“um…” Gawain stuttered, eyes round. 

Anything further was cut off by Galahad’s tongue in his mouth. Gawain moaned as Galahad’s grip tightened, his other hand winding into his hair. 

Galahad kissed like a savage, easily overwhelming Gawain into submitting. He shifted as Galahad moved him half onto his lap, clutching at his shoulder to try and keep his balance. Galahad continued to plunder his mouth until Gawain could feel him beginning to tremble. He pulled away, panting as Galahad's grip on his hair grew painful. His face grew hot under Galahad's burning stare. He flinched as he felt Tristan grab at him as well. It was far too much for him to deal with. 

"Please..." 

Galahad let go, allowing Gawain to bolt. 

"Christ yes, Tristan...." Galahad wailed as he came in his lover's greedy mouth. 

\-----  
end 2014 


	4. Burberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goings on at an industry function

"This is fantastic, Galahad. You, the new face of Burberry… a victory for all of us," Arthur gave him a good slap on the back. 

"That’s right, we can get more money for you now," Lancelot quipped, earning him an exasperated look from Arthur. 

Galahad just laughed, taking a flute of champagne from a passing server. 

"Sometimes, Lancelot, I don’t think you see me as an actual person." 

"I don’t. You’re a commodity. And a lucrative one at that." 

"So charming. I’ll leave you two to do business. I’m more interested in fun. Where’s Tristan?" 

"Lurking somewhere. I sent Gawain to wrangle him before he got into anything," Lancelot gave him an arch look before herding Arthur towards the VP of International Sales. 

"Good Lord…" Galahad sighed. 

He headed towards the bar, as that was the most likely place for Tristan to be and indeed, there he was, with the cute fellow who ran their shoot schedule. Tristan had a look on him that boded poorly for the guy. Galahad moved in quickly. 

"Tristan, be nice. Has he been giving you trouble?" Galahad smiled and the fellow blushed. 

"Yes.. no… I mean, now you’re here…" he stammered for a moment as he looked between the two of them, then bolted. 

"Tristan what did you say to him?" Galahad leveled a harsh stare at his lover. 

Tristan simply rolled his eyes and lifted one shoulder in a sort of shrug. But he was smiling and shifting his gaze betwen Galahad and the swiftly retreating form of Gawain. Galahad just crossed his arms and waited. It didn’t take long until Tristan had to speak. 

"I think he likes you." 

Galahad thought about it for a moment and the penny dropped. 

"Oh, he’s the one I kissed in the club the other night. You know, when you were blowing me in the VIP area." 

"Oh right, I thought he looked familiar. Are you going to fuck him?" 

"That’s one hell of a question, Tristan." 

Tristan pulled a face and dragged him closer. 

"So you are planning on fucking him. Do I get a turn as well?" 

Galahad pursed his lips and caught a last glimpse of the lad before he disappeared through the back room door. 

"I’ll have to see." 

Tristan laughed and pulled Galahad into a kiss as grabbed a fresh glass from at googling server. 


	5. Incident in a Bar

"I beg your pardon..." Galahad growled. 

He paused in retrieving the drinks to see to some asshole who felt it was in his purview to comment on how he'd been behaving with Gawain. 

"You heard me, Mary darling." 

Galahad's eyes narrowed. He'd promised Gawain he'd try to keep a tighter rein on things, so he just snarled and picked up their pints. 

"You the girl then?" the suit asked, his lip raised in contempt. 

Galahad set the pints back down. This idiot was no taller than him and not as wide. He could hear Gawain's voice echoing in his head, 'It wouldn't be honourable to take down someone smaller'. He tried not to react, then the arse started laughing at him. 

"What not calling over your boyfriend to rescue you?" he cackled,drunkenly while he elbowed his scowling friend. 

Galahad's nostrils flared as he tried to steady his breathing. He glared at both men, neither of which managed to hold his eye very long, then quickly picked up the pints again and moved back into the crowd. He glided effortlessly through the milling masses and made his way back to the corner where Gawain was hiding. 

"You'll be pleased to know I did not start a fight just now," he stated proudly. 

Gawain smiled happily and wrapped his arm around Galahad's neck, pulling him close for a rough kiss on the cheek. 

"I am pleased. What did the idiot do?" he said, liberating his pint from Galahad's tight grasp. 

"He inferred I was a homosexual." 

Gawain guffawed then took a long swig of his beer. Galahad caught himself watching his prospective lover's throat moving and reflecting on how that felt. He shivered slightly, bringing himself back into reality. He leaned in closer and continued. 

"Then he asked if I was 'the girl' and if you were going to rescue me." 

Gawain guffawed again at the air quotes and kissed him on the forehead. 

"Yeah, well, it's obvious he doesn't know you, then," he said, gleefully. 

Galahad snickered and took a long pull from his own beer. He tucked himself tightly against Gawain's side, blocking the view of anyone behind him and allowing him a bit of freedom to grope. He slid his fingers up under the hem of Gawain's moss coloured v-neck and stroked along the light fur around his navel. 

"So, no one bothering you this evening?" 

"What? Aside from you?" Gawain grinned as he made a pleased face at Galahad's gentle teasing. 

"Aside from me," Galahad said as he took a good pull of the beer without ceasing the tease of his fingers. 

Gawain stroked his thumb along Galahad's upper lip, making him shiver. "Bit of foam there." 

Galahad exhaled slightly, swiping his tongue along the same path Gawain's fingers had taken. 

"Nah, no one's bothering me. I'm not hot enough for anyone in this bunch to care." Gawain winked, his round cheeks making his eyes nearly vanish as he smiled. 

Galahad relaxed. None of these people deserved to be in Gawain's company. He was relieved yet annoyed he didn't have to fend anyone off. A few more beers and he might be able to convince the big oaf to come home with him. 

"You're far hotter than anyone in here, save me obviously." 

"You'd best not let your Tristan hear you say that," Gawain blushed as he said it, wriggling slightly as Galahad dipped his fingers just under the waistband of his jeans. 

"He agrees with me. Except he'd say he was the hottest." 

"He is hot though. So are you." 

Gawain blushed harder when he realised what he'd said. He wrapped his hand around Galahad's wrist to stop him popping open the button to his jeans. 

"Then you should come home with me so we can see who's hotter. You'd like to do that test, wouldn't you?" 

Gawain chewed his lip and let his gaze slide away. Galahad could sense him weakening and took his chin in hand, turning Gawain's face back towards him. 

"I'm totally having you, mate. You know that right?" 

Gawain laughed again, ruffing his hair and trying to shift out of his grip. Galahad was not letting go. 

"I'm serious, Gawain. You're coming back with me." 

"But I can't. I mean you and Tristan..." 

Galahad was now done with the chat portion of the evening and decided to make his point more clear. He grabbed Gawain by the neck and pulled him into a kiss. It was a delicious kiss, tasting of beer and terror, and not lasting nearly long enough. Galahad couldn't wait to see what the rest of him tasted like. 

"You can and you will." 

Galahad liked how Gawain trembled sightly in his grip, but shifted into it rather than away. He grinned wolfishly and pulled him down for another kiss. This time, Gawain melted into his embrace, letting him take everything he wanted. Galahad focused happily on plundering Gawain's mouth for several minutes, until someone poked him in the back with his glass. It was the idiot from the bar. 

"Well if it isn't the two poofs." 

Galahad growled as he pulled away from Gawain's plump, wet lips. He only had a moment to enjoy the dazed look of lust on Gawain's face before turning to stare down the idiot who'd interrupted the proceedings. 

"Piss off," Galahad hissed. 

Gawain's arm slid across his chest, and normally that would have made him extremely happy but he had no time to enjoy it. It was time to put an end to this twat's interference with his evening's plans. 

"Gawain, finish up your beer. We'll be leaving shortly." 

"Oh I see he's the girl," the suit jeered. 

Galahad heard Gawain sigh as he pulled his arm back from around his chest. As soon as he was freed, Galahad head butted the fool. He crumpled, clutching his nose and howling. Galahad smiled at the arse's wailing. 

"Come on. We're done with this place." 

He reached back and grabbed Gawain's hand, dragging him out. 

\-----  
end 2013 


	6. Plotting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tristan and Galahad discuss how to get a reticent Gawain to be the filling of a sandwich.

"Come on Tristan. You know you want to." 

Tristan shook out his hair and tossed the towel aside. He sat down on the bed next to Galahad and gently stroked his fingers along his lover's sunkissed shoulders. 

"What would you like, my love?" 

Galahad sort of shrugged. 

"I'm feeling lazy." 

"Gawain is rubbing off on you." 

Galahad giggled, "You have no idea." 

Tristan cracked a real smile and chuckled. He began to kiss along the skin his fingers has just stroked. 

"Do tell." 

Galahad stretched under Tristan's hands and lips, revelling in the feel of his warmth, even after a day in the sun. 

"What do you want to know?" 

Tristan started licking down Galahad's spine, nipping each little knob as he came to it. 

"Mmmm nice... oooo too much...." Galahad inhaled sharply at one toothy nip, then sighed happily at the soothing swipe of tongue. "I'm assuming you want me to spill everything. I wish I had a lot to spill. And no bad commentary there." 

Tristan laughed into his skin. 

"Seriously, Tris. It's like pulling teeth. He blushes." 

"Mmm that must be rather nice." 

"It is. Goes right the way down his chest." 

"Well you got his shirt off, at least." 

"I got him off as well. He almost cried. I think he's afraid of you. He was under the impressions you and I were as near to married as could be and he didn't want to touch me." 

Tristan sucked a rosy bloom into Galahad's shoulder. 

"You convinced him, mmm?" 

Galahad chuckled evily. He arched back into Tristan's hands and whined. 

"I got him drunk and savaged him." 

Tristan hummed his approval as he dipped his tongue between the pert globes of Galahad's arse. 

"Oh God yes... like that..." Galahad moaned. 

Tristan's thumbs spread him a bit wider, making more room for his tongue. Galahad wriggled, pushing up. Tristan growled a bit and licked wetly over Galahad's hole. 

"Shit if I'd thought to do this to him he'd probably be in bed with us now." 

He howled as Tristan's tongue delved deeply into him. 

"Ok... ok... I try this next. Jesus, Tris... oh God that's good..." 

\-----  
end 2013 


	7. the Lift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't escape Tristan.

  


  


Gawain poked the lift button impatiently. He could have sworn this was the slowest lift in the entire universe. He juggled several file folders to poke even more rapidly. Anything to get off this floor. 

"Jesus just open will ya?" he whined, swiping back the curtain of hair that had fallen over his face in his flight from Galahad's room. 

His heart was still pounding from his near escape as he shifted tensely. If the stairs hadn't been alarmed, he'd have just run down them. Finally the thing dinged and the doors opened. Gawain's mouth dropped open and he backed away. Tristan stood there, staring, draped in the opening like he was on a shoot. 

"Fuck..." Gawain gasped. 

"Yes I do hope so." 

"What?" Gawain stumbled back, fear flooding him as Tristan stalked forward. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean for anything to happen, but I was drunk. Please..." He held his hands up in defense as Tristan surged forward. 

"Galahad!" Tristan bellowed as he pulled the files from Gawain's gasp and flung them onto the floor, puling Gawain into his grasp by the hair. 

"You rang?" Galahad popped his head out the door, waving. 

"I thought you had the talk with him?" 

Gawain was pleading loudly as Tristan dragged him roughly towards Galahad's room. 

"He has selective hearing." 

"Collect that mess," Tristan pointed his chin at the mess of papers on the floor as he kicked Galahad's door out of his way and hauled Gawain into the room. 

"Please Tristan, don't hurt..." 

Gawain did not get to finish his sentence. Tristan slammed him against the wardrobe and kissed him until he stopped trying to escape and began kissing back. 

"Told you he wasn't going to hurt you," Galahad chuckled as he shut the door and dropped Gawain's folders on the desk. "Well not like you thought, at least." 

He sat on his bed and began to undress while watching Tristan manhandle Gawain towards him. 

"If you gave him his tongue back, it might go a bit better. Here give him to me and get out of that suit." 

Tristan growled and shoved Gawain onto the bed in a flurry of limbs and braids. Galahad grabbed him and kissed him more gently. He pulled Gawain into the middle of the king and shoved him flat. 

"We're going to have a blast, darling," Galahad purred as he pulled up Gawain's shirttails. 

\-----  
end 2013 


	8. Galahad has a realisation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen at a party in Venice. Galahad wakes up to something he's been somewhat ignoring.

"That girl likes you." 

Tristan elbowed him as they ground against each other on the dance floor. The music thundered around them, as Tristan laughed and slid his hand up the back of Gawain's thigh. Gawain looked over Tristan's shoulder and saw her. She was not very tall but filled out her gown in all the right places. She eyed him though her tumbles of dark hair and moved closer, her smile predatory. Gawain frowned and gripped Tristan tighter.

"No? Not interested? She looks tasty."

"Then you take her," he mumbled, mouthing along Tristan's neck. 

"You should see her face. I think she'd like to see us do more than just this," he chuckled, pulling Gawain into a full bodied kiss and grope. 

"Then you and Galahad do it," he snapped, rolling out of the kiss.

"Mmm that could be fun. Don't you want to join in?"

Tristan's willingness to fuck whomever, whenever, did not sit well with him today. He shoved his lover back angrily and stumbled into the crowd to the jingle of Tristan's musical laughter.

\-------

Maybe it had been a mistake to indulge in that ecstasy. Everyone was beginning to look the same no matter how hard he squinted and he was getting a bit overwhelmed by the heat, the closeness and music. He was being passed from person to person, to the beat of the music. Most just held onto him, bouncing in place with the heavy trance music, but some tried for more. His shirt was now mostly undone, tails out and smeared with makeup. His light linen trousers were in a similar state. He felt dizzy and randy from all the handing as he staggered towards the french doors that led to veranda. He needed to get away from all these people. He needed to breathe. 

Heart hammering, he slipped out of the ballroom and onto the veranda. The evening was chilly and the fresh air helped clear his head. He hid himself in the shadows by the overhanging trees and listened. The thumping of the bass filtered out, sending tickles of compression waves up through his feet, making him shift in place like he was still dancing. That made him laugh a little. He was out here hiding from the dancing but still dancing. He stared out onto the canal and sighed. While it had actually been exciting to come to a big designers party, in Venice of all places, the excitement had worn off quickly with Galahad having been dragged away almost as soon as they'd arrived and Tristan being an arse. He'd come for them, and they didn't seem to care about that. Actually, he wasn't sure they were even supposed to even be here. It wouldn't be the first event Tristan had made him unknowingly crash. He rubbed his fingers through his hair and slumped against the balcony railing. It should have been romantic, but here he was, stoned and alone while the two men he was "dating", "seeing", doing whatever it was they were doing... were still in the middle of the party doing who knows what. He blinked at the water and became mesmerised by it's slow, calming movement. 

He was surprised out of his reverie when someone burst through the double doors and and swept towards him. The figure was enrobed in a black, fluttering wrap that made him look aside from the movement of it. The figure stopped in front of him in a swirl of robes and black feathers like a great threatening bird. He tried to shrink back but a black gloved hand snaked out and seized him by the wrist. 

"Andiamo," The voice was a bit deep, but Gawain thought it was a woman's voice. Not that it mattered. The voice held command and he always obeyed commands.

"What?" he gasped as her fingers bit into his flesh. He winced and tried to pull away but she held him tightly. That was when he realised it was the girl who had been looking at him earlier.

She pulled him along the terrace rather strongly, dragging him along despite his protests. He stumbled behind until they reached a set of stairs and she dragged him up. She pulled him along relentlessly until they reached her goal. The double doors they went through were surrounded with candle light, the room they entered glowed with it. Gawain gaped at the sumptuousness of it all. It was like something out of a James Bond film or a historical fantasy, all gold trimmed furniture, wildly patterned crimson wallpaper and rich paintings. Golden candlesticks with thick tapers gave off light the same colour, bathing everything is a otherworldly glow. The dense colours and textures seemed to be closing in from all sides. She shoved him back onto the deep cushioned sofa and and slipped the swirling feathered wrap from her shoulders. She grinned at him with a look of appreciation as she tossed the fabric onto a nearby chair. 

"Prendete i vestiti, ora" came the demand. Her eyes flashed with greed.

He tried to scramble away, but everything moved around him like water. She hovered over him, fingers tracing along the edge of his cheek. He turned his head away and scrabbled at the back of the sofa. 

"I don't know what you're saying," he whined, trying to move away from her. She slid her fingers back up along his cheek to tangle into his hair. Gawain's eyes widened as she growled and tightened her fingers in his thick waves. She forcibly shoved his head down onto the cushions, holding him there while she began to undo his trousers. 

"Oh that's what you meant..." he blushed.

As he tried to get up again, she slapped him sharply, making him gasp in shock. His cheek burned from the rough velvet of her glove and his lip quivered. She shoved two fingers in his mouth which he took with a moan. He wanted to get away, sort of, but was frozen. The ectasy was in full swing now; he knew he was going to succumb, and he wa going to like it. He didn't even yell for help. Instead, he groaned as she settled over him, her hips rolling against him, sending all his blood south. He couldn't help but buck up against her. The room seemed to be full of beautiful fireworks as she ran her hands over him. 

"Fa bene, mio bello. Fa bene." She smiled down at him, pleased with what she felt underneath.

As he dug his heels into the cushions and tried to shift up, she let go of his hair and clamped her fingers around his windpipe. He gasped as she resumed rucking his shirt up with her free hand. He whined as she peeled his shirt away very slowly. His skin felt like it was on fire and her touch cooled it. Despite that, he tried to move her hand away and each time he received a slap across the cheek. Any movement away had her tighten the grip on his windpipe. He continued to wriggle until he was choking. It was so good he couldn't stop. 

He tried to pull at her arm, not completely sure if he was holding her in place or trying to move her enough to breathe. She forced breath into him with a biting kiss. He tried very hard not to think of how much he liked being controlled this way, how much every sensation made him harder. 

"Smettere!" she barked, a squeese on his throat turning into a caress. 

He froze in place, gulping helplessly and now embarrassingly hard. She hummed happily as she rubbed her hand over the front of his trousers. 

"Cos'è che abbiamo qui, eh?" 

"Please..." he panted as her thumb stroked along his windpipe. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes as he lost the fight to not arch into her grip. She popped the button on his trousers and pressed the zip down into tender, yet achingly hard flesh. He wailed as she worked him free.

"Please... please...." he cried, fisting the cushions into bunches, as she climbed over him. 

He realised she was wearing nothing under her dress when he slid inside of her without impediment. She rode him slowly, working him with every roll of her hips. She was relentless and skilled, making him moan shamelessly even as he pleaded for her to stop, then not to stop. He turned his face away from the smile on her face and sobbed as she continued.

"Siete così remissivo..." she sighed happily, as she ground down, her head thrown back in pleasure. "Penso Vi terrò tutto per me."

She finished loudly, her muscles clenching around him in hard, milking spasms. 

\-----

Tristan had Galahad in his lap, his lips working along his lover's neck making him moan and squirm. The party swirled around them, music thumping. 

"Lets go..." Tristan whispered, sliding his hand down the back of Galahad's trousers.

"Mmmmm, not yet. I want a dance with Gawain. Where is he?"

Tristan's hand stilled. He knew he had forgot something. 

"Um..."

Galahad made an unhappy noise and pushed out of his grip. 

"You dick. What did you do and where is he?"

"What do you mean _what did I do_? I didn't do anything.' 

Galahad scowled and hoisted his trousers back into place.

"Don't hand me that. I told you he needed to be kept an eye on."

Tristan rolled his eyes and reached for Galahad's waistband. 

"The lady of the house took an interest. She probably has him flat on his back somewhere by now."

Galahad's rage rose with the heat and flush creeping up his neck.

"WHAT?!" He belted Tristan hard across the jaw and shoved away from him, heading for the stairs while trying to do up his trousers.

\--------

Gawain didn't see the door open, or understand the argument but he did recognise the arms that wrapped around him.

"Tristan..." he smiled and arched up for a kiss, which Tristan greedily allowed. 

The shouting grew louder, most of it Galahad. Tristan gently tucked Gawain back into his trousers and did them up quickly. 

"Come on my lad. I have to get you home." 

"Is something wrong..." Gawain babbled. The tension was making him agitated. He held onto Tristan tightly and began to weep.

"Shhhhh. This was my fault not yours. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry I left you alone. Now come on, it's time to go."

Tristan kissed both Gawain's eyes then hoisted him onto his feet. He held him steady as he plucked up his discarded shirt from the floor. 

"Galahad is really angry," Gawain began to wibble but Tristan kissed him quickly to shake him out of it.

"Oh yes, you could say that. But not at you. Now come on oaf. The boat is waiting."

The shouting continued as Tristan carried/hauled Gawain downstairs to the boats.

\-----

"You bitch I should kill you for touching that!"

Galahad's face was beet red and he was sputtering. The woman simply rised her brow and smiled as his fury mounted.

"Galahad, why so angry? I don't see a ring on it, or a collar, which would be more likely."

"Collar? Gina, what the hell!"

"Oh Galahad, really. You can get matching ones for him and Tristan. Although Tristan is enough to keep anyone busy all by himself. You should let me keep this one. He's delicious. What's his name?"

Galahad's eyes nearly popped out of his head ad he lunged for her. Gina laughed and danced away, putting the sofa between them.

"Oh you do like him then. More than you realised. My dear boy, are you in trouble."

Galahad scowled and kicked the sofa. Gina laughed at him.

"This is my house after all. I should be entitled to my pick of the guests. He's so compliant and sweet, and you have Tristan already. Don't be a greedy bitch."

Galahad felt his face go hot and his stomach clenched. He flipped Gina off and stomped out of the room, anger and annoyance boiling inside him. 


	9. morning at the beach house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a typical morning at the beach for the boys.

"Headed out for the surfing?" 

Galahad looked up from his book as Gawain opened the sliding door to the patio of their beach house. He let his gaze sweep up and down his lover's body in appreciation and slight disappointment. The lad was wearing his old Hitman boardies which covered him loosely from waist to knee. The only bonus to this was they were sliding down further than usual over his muscular middle, sitting precariously low. Galahad suspected who might be behind that when he spotted the rosy bite mark on his hip bone. 

"Yeah... " He shifted foot to foot, looking over his shoulder. His eyes were wild and his hair a mess of rumpled waves. His plump lips were red and kiss swollen. Galahad licked his own lips in sympathy. 

"Are you wearing sunscreen?" he asked, gaze roaming over all the exposed flesh before him. 

While Tristan seemed to simply turn bronze, he and Gawain tended towards the lobster. He never went out without a layer of sunsceen, but Gawain never remembered and sunburn would severely impact his plans for later in the evening. Too much of a mood killer, no matter how much he enjoyed rubbing in all that aloe gel. 

"Yeah." 

"Turn around and let me see." 

Gawain grinned and flushed, turning slowly. Galahad smiled over the fine expanse of glistening flesh before him. He'd been completely covered. Tristan was nothing if not thorough. 

"Is it the 50 or that junk Tristan uses?" he asked, just as Tristan stumbled out of the one bedroom making obscene noises around the cigarette dangling from his lip and grabbing at the waistband of Gawain's shorts. 

"Come here you..." 

Gawain made a frightened noise and bolted out the door. Galahad tsked and threw his book at Tristan. It went splat on his chest, but Tristan caught it before if fell. 

"Tristan, what did I tell you about terrorising him?" 

Tristan just laughed, folding himself onto the floor around Galahad and pulling him into his arms. 

"You would think he was a virgin the way he blushes and hides. He's got nothing to be embarrassed about." 

"Tris, he was a virgin with men before me. I told you that, you goon." 

Tristan shrugged, flicking the cigarette towards the still open door and hooked his arm around Galahad's neck, crushing their lips together. Galahad made a dirty sound, low in his throat, as he kissed back enthusiastically. He pushed Tristan flat on his back and climbed over him, slotting their hips together. Tristan groaned and stroked his hands down Galahad's back until they rested on the pert globes of his arse. He gave a firm squeese before beginning to roll the loose linen trousers put of the way. 

"Oi, your hands are greasy..." 

That got him a slap on the bottom as Tristan worked on his trousers. They ended up in a pile around his ankles. 

"All the better to jerk us off then." 

Galahad wriggled helpfully and kicked the fabric out of the way. Tristan chuckled evilly and took hold of them both. His hands were still quite greasy from the sunblock, letting Galahad easily push into his grip. It was delicious. They grunted in near unison as Tristan's long fingers squeesed in counterpoint to the movement of their hips. Galahad moaned and dug his fingers into Tristan's bare shoulders, rolling his hips wantonly. 

"Mmmmm yes, this is nice," he purred. 

Tristan snorted and grabbed Galahad's arse cheek. 

"I was hoping for something better than 'nice'..." he chuckled. 

"What's wrong with nice?" Galahad purred as he pressed his belly down on Tristan's fist. They both groaned in pleasure. 

Tristan slid his fingers into the cleft of Galahad's cheeks and rubbed lightly over his hole. Galahad sighed and spread himself open a bit more. Tristan took the hint and pressed in slightly. The pleasure of Tristan's warm fingers caused him to buck into Trustan's fist with more force. Galahad's breath came faster and he tucked his head in the crook of Tristan's neck, his rhythm breaking as his orgasm got closer. 

"Am I distracting you?" Tristan teased. 

"Fuck you... god get them in there..." 

Tristan chuckled and slid the tip of one lotion slick finger in. Galahad sighed happily and moved even faster, writhing under Tristan's ministrations. 

"And you call me a slut," Tristan drawled, as he slowly began to fingerfuck Galahad in earnest. 

"You are a slut... oh god yesss..." Galahad groaned as he pushed back onto Tristan's fingers. 

They rutted wildly for several minutes, until Tristan slid a second finger in and began to hit Galahad's sweet spot. Galahad's teeth sunk into Tristan's shoulder making him howl. 

"You little bastard!" he growled, redoubling his efforts. It took only a moment before Galahad cried out loudly and came wetly into Tristan's tight grip. 

Just then the patio door flew open. 

"Jesus! What's going on! Are you okay..." Gawain burst though the door, concern all over his face. He blinked for a count then realised what all the screaming had been about. He flushed a deep red and made to back out of the room. 

"Close that door and come here," Tristan barked. 

Gawain obeyed immediately, shutting the door and stepping closer. Tristan gently wiggled his fingers inside Galahad to a sigh and another bite. Gawain's breath hitched as his eyed flicked back and forth between them. Galahad grinned and motioned for Gawain to come closer. 

"Give me your hand, baby," Galahad breathed, extending his hand. 

Gawain hesitated for a moment, then gingerly kneeled next to them. He gasped softly when he was pulled into a sloppy two way kiss that he eagerly returned. Galahad wound their fingers together and guided them to wrap around Tristan's still stiff cock. Gawain took the hint swiftly and they soon had Tristan worked into a panting, swearing mess. Their joined fingers were merciless but it was Gawain, dragging the ends of his braids over Tristan's belly before taking the head between his plush lips that brought on the end. 

"Fuck... oaf... Galahad this was you... fuck..." Tristan wailed as Gawain delicately sucked, his tongue teasing over the slit. 

Galahad laughed until Tristan began moving his fingers again. He let out a truly wanton groan, his hand slipping from Tristan's cock as he curled into the crook of Tristan's arm, letting Gawain finally swallow him down. 

"I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about..." He let out a low whine as his eyes crossed. 

Gawain just made slurping noises as he swallowed Tristan whole. He barely managed to bob three times and hollow his cheeks before Tristan was howling and filling his mouth. 

"Fuck... Gawain... Jesus..." Tristan wailed as he yanked on Gawain's hair. 

Gawain gasped in surprise, pulling away and parting his lips. He looked at them both with a very blue and unfocused gaze, a little grin tugging up the corner of his mouth. As Tristan's come oozed over his slick, red lips, Galahad lunged at him. He made a small, unhappy noise as Tristan's long fingers slipped out but it only slowed him a moment. He shoved Gawain flat, fingers digging into the firm muscle of his shoulders. He licked and and sucked, cleaning up Gawain's chin and neck while pinning him flat. 

"Out of the way..." Tristan growled as he shoved at Galahad's hip and pulled at Gawain's boardies. 

Galahad kicked at him, Gathering Gawain into a tight embrace as he mouthed over his face. 

"You two... stop... Galahad... come on..." Gawain pleaded while starting to giggle. 

Galahad didn't like being interrupted and smacked Tristan on the head. Tristan grabbed him by the waist and hoisted him up even though he refused to let go of Gawain. Galahad's grip slipped and Gawain rolled towards the door. He stood quickly and smiled broadly. He stuck out his tongue and turned, bending and baring his plump arse before bolting out the door. 

"Last one in bottoms!" he cackled as he sprinted out the door and towards the sparkling sea. 

"Get back here you!" Tristan shouted, not minding he was still nude, as he bolted out after Gawain. 

Galahad smiled to himself, whistling softly as he hoisted his trousers up and tossed his shirt aside. He leisurely made his way back into the bedroom to grab the 50 block before ambling out to the beach after the other two. 

\-----  
end 2013 


	10. Cats

"Tristan, honestly you can not treat Gawain like the cat…" 

"He loves it when I rub his belly and pet him." 

"Ok, so he does but…" 

"And he loves it when I hold him like this." 

"Tristan you do not hold him like that!" Galahad laughed, "He’s entirely too large for that." 

"Nonsense." 

Tristan scratched the cat behind the ears and it made the same rumbling noise as Gawain. Galahad snorted in laughter, prompting the photographer To throw up his hands and begin to yell. 

\-----  
end 2013 


	11. Kinky Boots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gawain finaly ends up on the runway.

“Jesus where is Matthias?” 

Galahad’s ears perked as the show director’s voice grew ever more frantic. 

“Tristan, Hear that? Didn’t anyone tell him Matthias is a no show?” 

Tristan took a last long drag of his cigarette and and shooed the hairdresser away. He stood and stretched, craning his neck to see what was happening. 

“He’s holding the boots.” 

Galahad laughed and shook his head. 

“Thank God my feet are too big.” 

Tristan smirked, sharing the sentiment. The boots were a size 10 and only Matthias fit them. 

“How long till all hell breaks loose?” 

“Galahad, you really are a rotten little boy, aren’t you?” 

They both laughed, checking themselves in the mirror quickly before they were herded off into the dressing area. 

—- 

Gawain hated going behind the scenes on a runway show. It was always a mess back there and getting yelled at by shrill designers was not high on his list of favourite things. Giving bad news to Tristan and Galahad was also not high on his list of favourite things either. So he’ was doubly unhappy when Lancelot sent him backstage on the Gaultier show for the express purpose of telling the two of them that they had to do another shoot the next morning rather than head off to beach on Capri like they’d planned. 

He craned his neck to search over the partitions, looking for the familiar dark heads. Galahad was the easiest to spot. He spotted the glossy brown curls almost no one tampered with bouncing toward his place in line. 

“Galahad…” 

He barely got his friend’s name out before he was grabbed by four sets of hands. 

“Why are you late? Holy fuck Phillipe was going mental. Sharon, get him out of these street clothes and into the boots.” 

“Hey…” 

Gawain didn’t get another word in. He was poked, stripped, made up and brushed out. Each time he tried to protest he was silenced with a slap or a prod. That was, until Phillipe descended upon him. 

“You miserable little bitch, where have you been? My God I shouldn’t pay you!” 

“Pay me? You don’t pay me. Jesus, Tristan, Galahad where are you! What the fuck?” Gawain squealed as red patent leather thigh high boots were shoved onto his feet. “Oi!” 

The zips were done up and he was summarily shoved into the line wearing only very small white cotton shorts, a perfectly fitted crisp white linen shirt, and red, 5 inch spike heeled boots. He was swept out onto the runway along with everyone else. He stumbled only once, then straightened himself out and stalked down the runway to where he spotted Galahad and Tristan. 

Galahad spotted him first and froze. He’d always wished Gawain would join them on the runway but he’d always refused. He’d never be allowed to refuse again. Especially once Tristan saw him. 

“Tristan… look.” 

Tristan’s wildly braided hair spun as he turned to see what Galahad was so excited about. 

“Fuck…” 

Gawain’s expression was fierce as he stalked towards them. His bottom lip was out in that way that Tristan so loved to suck on. He looked annoyed, petulant and hot as hell. He walked in those boots like he owned the entire hall and judging by the number of cameras swinging towards him, Tristan was not the only ones to notice. 

“Arthur will die,” Galahad whispered. 

“With joy, maybe.” 

They shifted to show the clothes in the middle of the runway and paused, waiting for Gawain to reach the front of the walk. The other three boys left them, heading back for the change while Tristan and Galahad drifted forward. As soon as Gawain paused, they flanked him and ran their hands up the thighs of those boots. 

“You’re stuck working with us now oaf,” Tristan’s eyes crinkled, accentuating the tattoos painted on his cheeks. 

“Yep, no escape now!” Galahad bounced up and kissed his cheek before spinning and parading back to the wings. 

Tristan chuckled as he trailed overly familiar fingers near the edge of Gawain’s shorts to a flurry of flashes and clicks right before he swung around and followed Galahad. 

Gawain just sighed and futilely hoped no one really noticed he’s pitched a chubby from their teasing. He ran his fingers through his hair, squared his shoulders and gave a spin in the boots before stalking back off into the wings. 

—- 

Gawain sat on the sofa with his head in his hands trying to block out the other two. Galahad had set up the video chat as soon as they’d got back to their hotel room and both he and Tristan had not stopped laughing since they’d sat down. 

“Arthur, you had to see it. Red patent with five inch heels. They tried to stuff them on my feet but failed. He didn’t even trip.” 

“He was also suitably excited by the exercise,” Tristan purred, reprising the grope that he’d done both on the runway and in the toilet afterwards. 

Gawain just belted him in the head and sobbed. 

“Chin up Gawain,” Arthur teased, “You knew it was only a matter of time.” 

Gawain just groaned and flopped back on the sofa. Galahad snuggled up around him and rubbed his belly. The kissing followed soon after. Tristan just chuckled. 

“I think we’ll be signing off now Arthur. I hope you have someone in the office to replace him.” 

“Why do you think Lancelot sent him down there?” 

Tristan cackled and cut the connection. 

\-----  
end 2013 


	12. What do you mean I'm working?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gawain didn't realise he was on the job as well

"Wake up, oaf. You're coming with us." 

Tristan and Galahad dragged Gawain out of bed and let him drop to the floor. 

"Ow… you dicks. I'm not working, you are." 

Tristan hauled him up bodily, twisting him around and kissing him thoroughly. 

"That'll wake him up. Lance sent over a book for him, not that he'll need it for this one. It's one of Paolo's, so you might want to save that." 

Galahad was pulling on sweatpants over his bare skin. It caught both Tristan and Gawain's attention. He smiled evilly and reached for a t shirt. 

"Sad to cover all that," Gawain mumbled stroking his hands down Tristan's back. 

They both snorted at him, very suspicious smiles on their faces. 

"Something funny is going on here." 

He tried to disentangle himself from Tristan but the man was not having it. Strong hands held him close as Tristan's lips worked along his neck. 

"We think it's funny but I'm pretty sure you won't," Galahad was piling things into their set bag and shaking his head. "Tristan, Come on. Sleeping beauty there has put us behind time." 

Tristan sighed and let go of Gawain with a last kiss on the nose. He slipped into his own tracksuit while Galahad threw one at Gawain. 

"Chop chop." 

"He thinks we're kidding him." 

They both looked at Gawain who stood completely confused in the middle of their bedroom clutching the tracksuit that had been thrown at him. 

"Gawain, you're on this shoot too. Arthur told you didn't he?" Tristan leered, his smile very toothy and predatory. 

The look on Gawain's face said everything. 

"Oh God… Tristan, you are not briefing him. Here…" Galahad tossed the set bag at his head. 

Tristan cackled happily and hustled out of the room, picking up shoes and the bag. Galahad sat Gawain down on the bed, clapping his hands on his friend's shoulders. 

"Look I know Lance is enjoying fucking with you, but its not fair. Paolo's been asking for three boys for a special shoot. A very special, very… friendly shoot." 

Gawain just blinked. He'd kill Lancelot when he got back to the office. Then he'd kill Arthur. Nothing about this was sounding good. 

"What do you mean by friendly?" 

Galahad's deep breath told him it was going to be as bad as he was expecting. He licked his lips and ran his hands through his hair, looking anywhere but at Galahad. 

"Baby, it's fine. Really." Galahad wound his fingers into Gawain's waves and tilted his chin up so their eyes could meet. "It's nothing we didn't do last night. In fact it'll be a lot less than we did last night. Unless Tristan gets carried away." 

"He never gets carried away." 

"Tris is a camwhore. And probably an exhibitionist. He gets very carried away. And in the interest of full disclosure, I'm nearly as bad." 

Gawain groaned. 

"The good news is we will push you out of the way to get in front of the lens," Galahad's smile was electric. "So don't look so worried. I'll look after you." 

"I'm supposed to be the one looking after you." 

"You always have done, love, but now things are a little different." 

"I don't want to do this." 

"I know, love. But you'll be helping us and Arthur. You were a big hit. And me and Tris have wanted you with us on jobs for years. It'll make us really happy." 

Gawain sighed. He knew there was no getting around this and he'd just have to suck it up and deal. 

\--- 

Gawain hadn't been sure what he expected, but it definitely wasn't this. Tristan had bolted out of the cab and into the house even before Gawain had paid the driver. Galahad remained with him, the steadying presence this time. 

"What is there free food in there?" Gawain tried not to sound nervous as Galahad laughed and flung his arm around Gawain's neck. 

"Something like that." 

The cab sped off down the narrow winding street leaving them as the only ones out among the as yet unopened businesses and still quiet residents. It looked like any quiet, old street, but his stomach was still doing flips. 

"We'll be on the roof I think. Weather's good for it. Come on, this will be fun. I swear. Really." 

Galahad winked at him and herded him through the faded orange facade into the dark entryway beyond. 

\--- 

Galahad and Tristan left him on the roof while they went back downstairs to get made up and dressed. At their suggestion he stayed back to get used to the surroundings and setup. Normally he was only here for this part of the shoot. He'd see to the setup, make sure Tristan and Galahad were happy and focused, then he'd be on the phone or doing paperwork or making sure the catering was what they wanted. Tristan had taken his phone away and threatened to spank him if he so much as looked like he was doing his old job. He wasn't a face, or at least he hadn't been until last night, and this was somewhat scary. And spanking was hardly a thing to threaten with. 

"Jesus…" He sighed and looked over the set. 

The light was clear and bright against the blue painted wall. The patio was nice; white washed wooden decking, decorative pillows strewn artfully about, a little moroccan table with glasses and other things tumbled onto it. He shouldn't be nervous. Tris and Galahad had been on these shoots for ages. It wasn't like he'd never wanted to be in some of those pictures with them... 

And now he would be. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Tristan slithering over to him, beer in one hand and cigarette in the other. He was beautiful in a pale linen suit and crisp blue and white striped shirt. His hair had been properly combed and styled back in a rather severe and sculptural do. Oddly he wore no shoes. 

"Andrea is waiting for you. Go get done up," he wound himself around Gawain and kissed him expansively before breaking away for a drag. 

"Is that beer? Tris it's not even nine…" Gawain licked his lips and grabbed for the bottle. 

"Hair of the dog. Get your own." 

He turned Gawain by his shoulders and gave him a shove towards the door. 

\----- 

Andrea had him sat in front of a mirror as soon as he'd come down the steps. She'd quickly got the knots out of his hair and had it in some real sembelance of order, before ordering him to strip. 

"I can't... not in front of you…" 

"Look darling," she laughed, "I don't care how many sets of Tristan's teeth marks you are trying to hide. Off with ‘em." 

She waved the hairbrush at him to the sound of Galahad snickering as he emerged from the side room, two beers in hand. He was in a similar suit to Tristan's but with a very pale aqua shirt. 

"Baby, if you have something she's never seen before the sun will implode. Here, hair of the dog." 

Gawain took the bottle along with the kiss. Andrea sighed then hit him with the brush. 

"Off with ‘em." 

Gawain took a long pull from the bottle and felt mildly fortified. He took a deep breath and stripped. 

Andrea was completely professional, as he knew she would be. He'd been on shoots with her for years. That was probably why he was bright red and fidgety. She made her usual lewd remarks and pinched his cheek, but overall it was as painless as she could have made it for him. 

"You don't see much sun do you love? Not like those other two. There's less to even out on you, thank God. Now step into these while I find the shirt." 

She shoved a swath of fabric at him which he barely grabbed before she'd turned to root through several garment bags. He shook out the trousers and gratefully slipped into them. The linen was white, and very sheer. He blushed to his chest when he realised how low on his hips they sat. 

"Oh Gawain, darling, save that for the roof. Paolo will want to get that on film." 

She rubbed one hand over his thick belly and he flushed even harder. 

\----- 

"Has Andrea eaten him, do you think?" 

Galahad snorted and choked on his beer as Tristan lounged on the pile of pillows under the sunshade. 

"She's been looking forward to this day for some time," Tristan drawled. "I know she wishes she could have some of that." 

"They all wish. But he's ours." 

Tristan just grinned smugly before downing the rest of his beer and holding his hand up for Galahad to take. He did so and climbed into Tristan's lap. 

"I still don't believe we get paid for this." 

"Be quiet boy, or they'll catch onto us." 

They both giggled before lapsing into a comfortable kiss. 

\-----  
end 2013 


	13. These two are not helping at all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galahad and Tristan continue to tease Gawain

Gawain felt somewhat awkward as he made his way out onto the roof deck. At least until he saw his lovers lounging all over each other as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Well if they can't be bothered to have any shame… " he mumbled.

He pulled down the hem of the blue and white striped t shirt that Andrea had stuffed him into and stalked his way over to the shade. He frowned as it rode up as soon as he walked, showing the pale flesh of his belly.

"Oi you two. We have work to do."

Tristan's eyes narrowed in a disturbing, yet extremely familiar manner as he approached the pair. Galahad just made rude noises with his lips.

"Paolo, get him while he's backlit!" Tristan cried out as he slithered from Galahad's grip and off the lounge.

Paolo immediately stopped talking to the lighting guy and turned. His face lit with a look not unlike Tristan's as his camera swung around and focused right in on Gawain.

"What the fuck, Tris?"

Gawain froze, unsure of what to do or what was happening. He watched dumbfounded as Tristan snatched the camera from Paolo's hands and looked back at what he'd taken.

"You will send me all of these, yes?"

Tristan's expression was intense and greedy. Now Gawin really wanted to see what he'd missed. Paolo laughed at him and shooed Tristan back over to where Gawain had stopped.

"Spar, you two. Show the clothes."

Tristan smiled, smoothing his jacket down as he squared his shoulders. He smiled as he cocked his head, looking Gawain over from head to toe. Gawain noticed his elegant feet shifting on the deck and knew what was coming.

He hooted and sprang into the air, just as Tristan's left foot would have connected with his knee. His snap kick hit air as Tristan gracefully arched back on his follow through, allowing him to slide just under Gawain's toes. Gawain landed lightly and turned closer in, trying to grapple; Tristan laughed and leapt back, leaving him to grab at air. They circled each other, laughing, cheeks flushed mindless of anyone and anything else. This Gawain could get used to. Gawain saw Tristan's hip twitch and dropped low for a leg sweep as Tristan basically flung himself over his back in a sort of jete.

"Fucking dancers…" he snarked.

Tristan laughed and went low after him, grabbing him around the chest and swinging him up and around in a semi circle until he was standing. Gawain scuttled out of his reach and ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back from his face. Tristan taunted him with a lewd look.

"Good thing you weigh a ton, oaf, or I'd have had you in a lift."

Galahad moved in front of Gawain and shoved him onto the lounge.

"My turn."

Galahad leapt in, foot arching up towards Tristan's nose. Tristan caught him by the ankle and turned him, getting his hand on Galahad's hip and raising him easily. He held him for a moment then spun him and let him drop down into his arms. Gawain had seen them do this millions of times. Generally right before they ended up on the floor tearing each other's clothes off. He hoped they didn't do that here as Tristan was pinned into some of that suit and Arthur would kill them for the cleaning bill.

"No no no… Stop that. You two I want leaning against the wall. Andrea! they need to be adjusted," Paolo shouted into the stairwell as he waved Tristan and Galahad into the positions he wanted. "You're both eager today. There's time for that later."

Galahad let out a belly laugh as Andrea smacked Tristan sharply and reset the pins in his shirt. He stopped laughing when she smacked him next and began to readjust his hair. Gawain didn't laugh in case she came over to him next. Instead he just settled back in on the pillows and watched. This was far more comfortable. He enjoyed watching his two move gracefully around each other, easily showing what Paolo wanted to see of the clothes and them in the clothes. He still didn't understand why they were forcing him into this. He didn't have any of that grace or any of the skill needed for it. He sprawled on the pillows enjoying the view until Paolo waved him over. He got up reluctantly and padded over to where they lounged against the sea blue wall.

"Now, I need you in with them. You two, I want you to tell him what you plan to do with him once you are all on those cushions."

At Gawain's eyebrows shooting up he could hear the camera clicking away rapidly.

"What shall we do with him, Galahad? He's too big to carry."

Tristan's long fingers wrapped around Gawain's hips, pulling him closer. He ghosted his lips over Gawain's cheek, making him flush. Gawain flushed harder when he realised the camera was drinking all that in.

"I think we should just drag him over. He does like it rough."

Galahad pressed close behind him, his hands slipping up under the hem of the too short striped shirt, pushing it up. He nibbled on the lush muscle of Gawain's shoulder.

"He does. A little fight gets him up. Oh but wait, he's ahead of us there."

Tristan's hand shot forward to cup around the bulge showing in Gawain's light trousers. Gawain groaned as one of Galahad's hands slid down his belly to join in. That only made things grow more difficult for him.

"No… come on you shits… not here…" he pleaded, wriggling in their grip.

"Oh yes here, oaf. I think Galahad warned you about what was expected on this shoot," Tristan purred as he mouthed along Gawain's jaw.

"We want to see you look like you did this morning."

"What sweaty and with my hair sticking up?" Gawain mumbled as he tried to shift away from their teasing hands.

"Eventually…" Tristan chuckled.

\-----  
end 2013


	14. Tristan shares a tiny fact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bit of the truth comes out.

"Yes, yes... all that was good. You boys get downstairs for the next change."

Gawain was left in a swirl of linen, still blushing and visibly hard. Paolo laughed and patted him on the shoulder as he moved back into the stairwell.

"They are teasing you. Next time it'll be you teasing them. That I want pictures of."

"Too bloody right, mate!" he hurried into the shade and thundered down the steps.

His two tormenting devils were downing more beer and gnawing on large sandwiches. Gawain felt his scowl drop away as Tristan slithered over with a plate for him.

"Breakfast," he grinned, eyes flashing naughtily. "Shame we couldn't manage feeding you in bed."

His scowl faded but his blush grew rosier. Paolo belted Tristan on the ear as he moved past to exchange camera equipment.

"Stop it. No more until I have the camera on him."

"Bloody Christ I am not blushing for you to just take pictures of it…"

He was cut off in mid tirade by Tristan's mouth covering his own, tongue delving around mercilessly until he could do nothing but clutch at his shoulders.

"I'm sorry oaf, I forget this is new to you." He whispered, rubbing his lips over Gawain's ear. "Sit down and eat something, you'll feel better."

Gawain sat, taking the bottle and the plate from Tristan's hands. After the first bite he realised he was ravenous and he proceeded to devour the entire thing in less than ten bites. After his second beer his mood had indeed improved greatly. Galahad finished his breakfast first and was happily submitting to Andrea stripping him out of the suit and throwing shorts at him. She picked at his hair as he stepped into the bright orange things and slapped his hands as he reached for a t shirt.

"No, you get the camp shirt. Our Gawain is in the t shirts today."

Tristan snickered as Galahad grabbed his top and disappeared up the stairs frowning. Tristan smoothed Gawain's hair and kissed him on the top of the head.

"Andrea enjoys your torso it seems. Galahad has been deposed. He'll sulk now."

"You're a fine specimen of a man. Don't let these two tell you otherwise."

"Andrea, my love, we show him every day how fine a specimen he is. And if he's good, we show him twice."

"Fuck you!" Gawain threw a magazine at Tristan as he cackled and danced away.

Andrea threw it back followed closely by pale blue shorts of the same cut as Galahad's.

"These are yours. And you… you get over here and let me get those pins out. Mind I don't stab you to death with them."

Tristan laughed and tried to kiss her, but she evaded him with practised ease, yanking him around to where she could begin to undo him properly. Gawain just stood and began to strip, his lip stuck out petulantly as he felt the heat of his embarrassment on the back of his neck. He pulled the too tight striped shirt over his head and threw it at Tristan, who caught it and raised it to his nose.

"Delicious," he inhaled and winked.

Gawain huffed and shimmied out of his trousers. He tried to avoid Tristan's hungry look as he stepped out of them and into the pale shorts as quickly as humanly possibly. He could tell he'd failed.

"I'm never bloody getting used to changing in front of … people."

"Oh so I'm ‘people' now?" Tristan's eyes twinkled as he smiled gently.

"I didn't mean that."

"I know you didn't. I'm just trying to distract you. We probably have only one more change after this, then… well then, the fun will really start. This is almost better than watching you try not to fry on a beach in Capri."

"Shit, I forgot to call the rental place… Where's my phone." Gawain quickly zipped up and rifled through their bag.

"Gawain." Tristan barked and Gawain froze. "Do you not remember what I'd said earlier?"

"But…"

"No buts. That is no longer what you do. And if Lance fucked it up, then he's the one who will pay the extra. You are here to look perfect in front of the camera. And for me. Do you understand?"

Gawain dropped the bag and stood. He nodded once, and bolted up the stairs.

"For all that the boy is bigger than you and Galahad, you two just run him, don't you?"

Andrea pulled the last pin out of Tristan's jacket and yanked it from his shoulders, before quickly pulling out the remaining ones in his shirt.

"He craves it. Without structure he ends up in bad places. And it takes the two of us to keep him out of those places. And it's worth every moment." Tristan's smile showed just how much he meant it. It was dopey and affectionate.

"He really has no idea?"

"None. He thinks he's plain and stupid and that we are pulling some elaborate joke on him."

\-----  
end 2013


	15. Gawain is Unsure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just Galahad and Gawain

  


Galahad looked beautiful like this. It was another of those times when Gawain was at a loss as to how he’d become so lucky.

"You stole that shirt…" he chuckled, biting his lip as he steped out of the bathroom and into their bedroom.

Galahad leaned back onto his elbows, shirt liberated form the morning’s shoot sliding away from his shoulder. His expression was heavy with lust as he eyed Gawain’s bare and water speckled chest. Galahad licked his lips as Gawain toweled off.

"I did. I saw how much you liked it on me."

There was a naughty twinkle in his eye as he popped the bottom two buttons. He sprawled back, grinning.

"And since it’s just us tonight," his eyebrow quirked,"I thought I’d wear it for you."

Gawain shook out his waves, toweling his hair into dampness.

"I do like it. It looks nice on you."

He hid his face in the towel as he tried to sort out his feelings. Before yesterday, he could sort of convince himself Tristan and Galahad were just keeping him around for fun. That he was just an occasional addition to the deeply weird relationship that Galahad and Tristan shared. But after this morning, he wasn’t sure that’s what was happening. In fact he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

"Baby, you need to look at me."

Gawain peeked out from behind his toweling veil to Galahad smiling affectionately and motioning him to come closer. He moved to hover at the edge of the bed, thoughts still in turmoil.

"Tell me what’s wrong," Galahad whispered, trailing his toes up Gawain’s thigh and under the towel wrapped around his waist.

Gawain’s hand rested lightly on Galahad’s foot, stopping him from moving higher. Galahad chuckled and slid his other foot up and Gawain let his nimble toes lightly pinch as his thigh before trapping that one as he had the other. He sighed as the tingle of the pinch still played along his skin.

"Please, please don’t…"

"No?" Galahad started making puppy eyes at him. It made Gawain laugh a little, but he didn’t lift his hands.

"What am I to you?" he sounded far more breathless than he wanted and the words tumbled out in far more of a rush than he wanted. "I mean, what are we? I know you and Tris… well I don’t understand…"

Galahad looked stunned for a moment.

"Oh, no… oh dear oaf… I didn’t get it… Come here, come here."

He moved his feet from Gawan’s thighs and slid them around his legs, pulling him forward and down into his arms. Gawain let out a huff of surprise as he landed over Galahad and felt his strong arms wrap around his shoulders.

"Gawain, you belong to us. You’re part of us. I’m so sorry, I thought you knew." He gently kissed Gawain’s forehead and held him so their eyes remained locked. "We aren’t complete without you. We want you. Please understand that."

"But Tristan is out with Lina… And sometimes you go off on your own." Gawain frowned, a little line forming between his brows.

Galahad laughed and used his thumb to smooth the line away.

"They hate each other. I don’t get it, but he says the sex is awesome. And I think it annoys her. I never know with him." He pulled Gawain into a kiss that was not wholly returned. "Oh dear, I see we really do need a sit down."

\-----  
end 2013


	16. The unsurity is discussed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galahad and Tristan discuss their situation

|     
  
---|---  
  
Tristan returned earlier than he'd expected, as baiting Lina hadn't been as entertaining as he'd hoped. Their verbal sparring lacked it’s usual spark and he found himself thinking more about what Gawain and Galahad were getting up to rather than what he and Lina were getting up to. That was a loud signal to him that it was time to go. He'd made his excuses and bailed, hoping Galahad and Gawain had not worn each other out already and some fun was still to be had. 

Strangely, the trip home seemed endless. He could barely concentrate on the road as he barrelled down the narrow, winding streets in his haste. It itched at the back of his skull that he'd left them alone and that was something that had never happened before. He’d have to talk about this new development with Galahad. If he was feeling the same way it might be time to move their arrangement forward. The thought of that sent shivers down his spine. It had been a very long time since he’d wanted anyone like this, let alone two people.

His impatience showed as he chose not to bother with the garage, he simply parked the Alfa in the space in front of the door. Tristan chuckled as he unlocked the door and ran up the stairs. They'd probably mock him when he burst in breathless. He found he didn’t care particularly, he just wanted to see them. He didn't see what he expected, though, when he made his way into the bedroom.

"You're early," Galahad chirped.

He was reading in bed, his glasses perched on his nose as he stroked Gawain's hair. Gawain was fast asleep, face buried in the sheets around Galahad's lap, arms wrapped tightly around him.

"I am. Something's happened? I expected you two to still be at it."

He leaned down and dropped a kiss on Galahad's curls.

"Yes… well, it seems our darling oaf had a bit of a meltdown. He mentioned something about not being able to mind read, but he was crying at the time so I'm not entirely positive about that."

Tristan inhaled and squinted slightly. He gently drew his fingers along Gawain's forearm as he chewed his lip.

"We haven't been very good communicating to him, have we."

"Nope," Tristan drawled, leaning down to bury his nose in Gawain's hair.

"We'll rectify that immediately. How bad was it?"

Galahad smiled and closed his book.

"Not really bad. He's so confused, poor lad. Someone's been awful to him in the past, though. He thought he was just a toy. When I told him otherwise, I could see he didn't really believe me."

"Did he want to believe you?"

Galahad smiled. He tossed the book to the floor and reached for Tristan.

"Oh yes. He desperately wants to, but he won't let himself."

"He will when he wakes up."

"Are you planning on waking him now?"

"I might have to, as he's wound around you like a limpet and I plan on fucking you senseless."

“Good luck with that.”

Tristan snorted and tried to roll Gawain over. He didn’t move. He was utterly boneless and heavy with it.

“See?” Galahad chuckled. “It’s like he’s dead. Except he’s deliciously warm and I can feel his breath on me.”

Tristan just shook his head and rubbed Gawain’s back as he bent in to kiss Galahad.

“And now you can feel mine.”

“I like your breath on me. Along with other things.”

“Well apparently you won’t be feeling those other things right now. I’ve never seen him like this.”

Tristan brushed back some of his hair to lift an eyelid. Nothing but white showed. Not even a shiver of consciousness.

“He’s exhausted. I got another bit of a confession out of him before he crashed.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow as he began to strip out of his clothes.

“Seems we’ve overwhelmed him. He told me he just wasn't used to so much attention, sexual and otherwise.”

Galahad stroked Gawain’s hair, tangling his fingers in the haphazard braids.

“I can’t believe that.”

Galahad chuckled and slid down until Gawain was over him like a blanket. There was a faint whimper as Gawain shifted further into Galahad’s arms.

“Believe it.” He kissed Gawain’s hair and pulled up the covers. “Not that he’s complaining, mind. Now the gate’s been forced open he’s going to be keeping us both busy.”

“We didn’t force anything.”

Galahad coughed delicately. Tristan's lips twitched into a little smirk.

“Were you rough with him to get what you wanted? You naughty boy. I should punish you.”

“Ooo threats. I knew I loved you for a reason. But aside from that, I think the two of you need to spend some time together.”

“What leads you to that conclusion?”

Galahad heaved a sigh and patted Gawain gently on the head.

“Seriously? Tristan who is he all over like a limpet?”

Tristan shook his head and slipped into bed next to them. He tried to roll Gawain into his arms but was surprised at the resistance.

“See? I don’t think he trusts you yet.” Galahad craned his neck and stole a kiss from Tristan. “He’s sporty, take him to the football or netball or something.”

“That’ll make a nice change.”

“You’re still irked the polo club won’t let you in.”

“I am not ‘irked’. What even does irked mean?”

Galahad cackled and pulled Gawain closer, settling in more comfortably.

“You are irked. Don’t be. That was the most excitement they’d had there in decades. Now shut the light and give us a kiss.”

Tristan grumbled but did as he was told. This time.

\-----  
end 2013


	17. One of Galahad's magazine parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Press party for Galahad's face on Essential Homme. Gawain realises he's going to have to suck up and deal even if Tristan does cover for him.

 

"Look here’s a pile of them!" chirped Gawain as he rushed forward, dragging Tristan by the sleeve. 

"Leave them, oaf. Lets find the drinks." 

"But…" 

"Come on, Lance will have a stack in the office tomorrow." 

Gawain frowned momentaritly as he ran a finger over the glossy paper. Tristan laughed and pulled him into a rough hug, kissing him swiftly on the temple. 

"He looks bloody hot with that eyeliner…" Gawain whispered. 

Tristan guffawed, “That he does oaf, that he does. Now lets go hunt him down.” 

He gave Gawain a little shake then a slap on the bottom as he propelled him forward. 

"OI!" Gawain yelled. 

Suddenly he realised the entire room had gone silent. He felt his cheeks going red, both for the slap and for how loud he hadn’t realised he’d been. He also realised every head was turned to look at them. He froze, striken, until Tristan swept past him, drawing the attention of any and all in the room. 

"Hello everyone, where’s the bar! Please tell me there’s a bar, or I’ll have to go." 

Laughter rippled through the room as he began kissing and greeting everyone as they crowded around him. Gawain shook himself alert and got himself out of the doorway. He jumped as a hand clapped him on the shoulder. 

"It’s alright, Gawain, calm down," chuckled Bors. 

Gawain sighed and rubbed his face with slightly shaky hands. 

"I really should get used to this kind of shit." 

"You’ll learn to tolerate it eventually." Bors slung his arm around Gawain and gently manouevered him towards the edges of the press frenzy. "And I have to tell you Arthur has a few solo gigs lined up for you. You’ve got a lot of interest from mens’ magazines. No eyeliner though. We’ll leave that to Galahad won’t we?" 

"Leave what to me? Oh hello darling, I only saw Tristan slither in." 

Gawain realised belatedly Bors had put him right at Galahad’s shoulder. Galahad kissed him on both cheeks and drew him into the pictures. They posed, beaming for a moment, until Galahad pinched him on the bottom and let Bors herd him away again. Gawain was happy the calls for Galahad’s attention drowned out the undignified squeak he made. 

\-----  
end 2015 


	18. Tristan shaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gawain is moved even though he is embarrassed.

  


 

"Tristan, aren't you ready yet?" Galahad shouted, his voice ringing off the tiles.

Tristan ignored him and inhaled a good lungfull of smoke, continuing his shave. He also ignored the huffing and banging noises that filtered in from the bedroom. He rolled his eyes as there was a thud on the door. When it opened, it was not who he expected.

"Tristan," Gawain looked apologetic and browbeaten. "Galahad's gone on ahead."

"Good. Maybe now I can finish in peace. Now sit there and be quiet."

He tried not to let Gawain see him smile as his dear oaf obeyed immediatley, sitting on the padded stool by the sink. He continued to shave, no sound but their soft breathing and the scrape of the razor for some minutes. Tristan could see Gawain in the mirror quite clearly. His eyes followed the motions of the razor with hungry interest.

"Why did Galahad send you in here. And I know that he did."

Gawain blinked and realised he'd been caught looking. His tongue swiped over his plump lip and he swiftly looked away, a rosy colour creeping up his neck. As soon as he moved to rise, Tristan took the blade from his chin. Gawain froze.

"I'm not angry with you, my dear one. Has Galahad been telling you stories again?" He smiled around his cigarette, plucking it from his lips finally when the ash threatened to fly into the air.

Now Gawain went fully pink. Naughty Galahad, he'd have to be punished later, probably his whole point in this. They obviously needed more time together.

"Galahad is being a naughty boy, isn't he?"

Gawain rubbed his face in his hands. Tristan didn't like the look of distress. He set down the razor and cigarette and took hold of Gawain's wrists. They were surprisingly delicate for such a sturdy lad and such big hands. He ran his thumbs gently along the soft inner skin. Gawain sighed and relaxed.

"You are not at fault and there is nothing wrong. You've done nothing wrong. This is just how he behaves when he's wanting attention. Not that we should give it to him when he's being this naughty," Tristan purred, "but I'm sure we can give him all the attention he can handle later tonight. Hmm?"

"I reckon he can handle alot," Gawain whispered, a little grin now showing.

"Good thing we are two then, isn't it?"

Gawain nodded, grinning fully now. Tristan pulled him into his arms and gave his bottom a good smack.

"Now get after him and keep an eye on how his sulk is progressing. And if you want to tease him back..." Tristan raised his brow.

It made his heart sing to see the expressions cross Gawain's face. Galahad was going to get a taste of his own medicine and in short order.

\-----  
end 2013

 


	19. Arsecrack of Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no one like to be woken up by a drunken Tristan

"Jesus Tristan, get that camera away from me…" Galahad whined as he swatted at the phone being shoved in his face. 

"Come on my little beauty… smile…" Tristan burbled drunkenly, "Lets see that freshly fucked glow…" 

"What time is it? Are you drunk? Still?" He rolled towards Tristan and on top of the lump that was Gawain, who’s soft snores never halted. "Give me that…" 

The picture taking noise was drowned out by Tristan’s cackles. 

“Jesus Christ you asshole… “ 

Galahad grabbed the device from Tristan’s unsteady hands and shoved it under Gawain’s belly. He just grumbled a bit and rolled his hips at the feel of Galahad’s hand. 

“What? I just wanted a picture. Ooof….” Tristan tried to grab for the phone and fell over Gawain and onto Galahad, who swore violently and tried to punch him in the mouth. “But this is better.” 

He wrapped himself around Galahad, tangling them both in the four layers of shell suits he was currently sporting. His lips latched onto Galahad’s and his tongue barged in eagerly. He made very happy noises when Galahad sighed into his mouth and pulled him closer. They lay quietly for several moments devouring each other greedily; the only noise being Gawain’s soft snores and their own soft snuffling. 

“Mmmm you taste like the good beer this time,” Galahad purred as he licked along Tristan’s lower lip. 

“Daniela’s party is good. I came to get you two. Come one.” 

“Fuck no, Tristan. It’s light. She sent you home to get you out of her house, you git, not to get us.” 

Tristan chuckled and clumsily tried to peel back the sheet. 

“She wants to be the filling.” 

“Daniela? I’m sure she does… but that’s not happening right now. Come on out of those clothes and get under here with me.” He guided Tristan over both he and Gawain to flop bonelessly in the spot against the wall. 

“Why is Gawain asleep?” 

“Because it’s the arsecrack of dawn you goon,” Galahad clucked as he roughly rolled Tristan out of the topmost jacket. 

“Christ how many of these are you wearing?” 

“It’s style.” 

“You look like a chav. Are your shoes still on? Jesus Christ man.” 

Tristan blew a raspberry and flung them off, along with two more jackets. His black tshirt had bunched up under his armpits during his struggles, luring Galahad into burying his face into the thick fur on his chest. 

"Mmm the oaf left you wanting again, did he?" 

Tristan’s gloating was cut short by a sharp clout to the head. 

"I did not," Gawain muttered sleepily,"Christ Tristan it’s bloody dawn…" 

"Shhhhh…." Galahad kissed him gently on the forehead. "Go back to sleep, darling." 

Gawain snorted and shifted restlessly. He muttered something unkind while rolling onto his side and sweeping the phone that was stuck to his belly onto the floor. 

"What was that?" 

"Nothing, shush. We are sleeping now." 

Galahad flung the track bottoms out onto the floor and pulled Tristan close. He was not surprised that Tristan wore no pants nor was he surprised that his wrist was grabbed and directed down. 

"Wishful thinking. Especially after waking me up." 

They tussled for moment until Galahad maneuvered Tristan against Gawain’s broad back and into his arms. Tristan wriggled a little until he realised he was trapped. 

"Shhhhhhh, go to sleep." 

"Fuck you…" he mumbled, tucking his head under Galahad’s chin. 

"Later baby, when we wake up." 

Soon Tristan’s snores joined Gawain’s. 

\-----  
end 2013 


	20. Teasing out a good mood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gawain gets bored at one of Galahad's shoots.

  


Gawain hovered in the background as the shoot dragged on. Edie's dress was uncooperative, the weather was changing for the worse, and Galahad was getting bored, Gawain could tell. He was getting that stiff in the neck and frowning thing starting and soon his temper would get the best of him. Now he understood why Tristan insisted he go along on the shoot.

He looked around, searching for anything that was in Galahad's line of sight but well out of the photographer's way. One of the lighting vans was near, that would do. He grinned and slowly made his way through the wardrobe and makeup people to see if he could get on top of it. He chuckled to himself and swarmed up the side of the van.

"No Galahad, I want you to look hungry. And don't look at her. Edie, darling I'm sorry, try not to look so exasperated..."

The photographer, who he weirdly did not know, kept droning on and on and that's when Galahad's gaze shifted. He could feel exactly when Galahad caught sight of him. He always knew when one of them was looking at him, he go prickly al over. This time was no different. Gawain balanced on the wobbly roof of the van and started making faces at him. That got a little smile and a lot of relaxation. Galahad slouched back on the makeshift chair and stopped bouncing his knee in boredom. Edie's dress cooperated a lot better when it wasn't being shaken all over. The dressers swarmed in and fluffed it as they wanted while Galahad just looked at him, eyes hooded. Gawain shimmied in place and made stupid faces, wondering how no one noticed him up here acting like a twit. Not that he cared much but their lack of attention was making him slightly bolder. Tristan must have been rubbing off on him in more than one way.

He swiped his tongue along his lower lip and trailed his fingers under the hem of the ratty blue t-shirt he was wearing. Galahad's expression became very focused, his gaze intense. Gawain cocked his head as if in question and smiled with a thumbs up then frowned with a thumbs down. That got a little grin out of his friend.

Gawain tried the signal again. He frowned and gave the thumbs down to no reaction. He smiled and gave the thumbs up to a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Gawain saluted and smiled broadly. He knew better than to make any noise but he didn't need to. He stuck out his tongue and raised his shirt up just over his belly, teasing with a flash of skin. Galahad began to smoulder.

Judging by the flurry of flashes and movement from the photographer and his staff this little tease was having the desired result. He knealt down on the rooftop and dragged his hands up his thighs. Galahad's teeth began to worry at his lower lip. Gawain's grin was all teeth as he dragged his nails over the front of his jeans. He laughed to himself as he watched Galahad's expression go very feral as he began to stroke along Edie's arm. He was now coiled with a much different sort of tension than before and it was stupidly hot. Gawain chewed on his own lip as he tailed his hand up his torso to hover over his nipple. He circled with one finger. Galahad nearly burst up out of his seat.

"Good good... that's it..."

Gawain hooted and slid down from the roof of the van. The lighting guys started yelling, but he waved them off, just as he was slammed against the side of the van.

"I swear to God..." Galahad hissed right before he shoved his tongue into Gawain's mouth, fingers tangling into his thick waves.

Gawain heard cat calls and jeering in the distance and the clicking of some cameras but he just wrapped his arms around Galahad and let him go wild.

\-----  
end 2013


	21. An Afternoon on the Lawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galahad takes Gawain to the family home for the weekend. Lady Corben has questions.

  
Title: An Afternoon on the Lawn  
Author: Tauna  
Genre: King Arthur (2004)  
Rating: [M]  
Summary: Galahad/Lady Corben 

The sun was glorious. He was glad he'd dragged Gawain out of town for the weekend. They'd been enjoying the fresh air, warmth and quiet away from the main house when Gawain had stopped strumming on his guitar and declared his thirst. He'd gone back to the house to make drinks but too much time had passed. He hoped the lad hadn't got lost. The sound of clinking ice roused him from his doze. 

"Mother, what have you done with Gawain?" Galahad raised his head and blinked the sun out of his eyes as she walked towards him, drinks in hand. 

"What leads you to think I've done something with him?" she grinned evily and took a swig of her GnT while handing him one of his own. 

"Oh, maybe the fact he went in for the drinks, he's now missing and you're here instead," he sipped grinning back. "Mmm he mixed this though." 

"He did indeed. They are good, aren't they? He's multitalented that new boy of yours." 

"You have no idea." 

"Very true, I don't. Why don't you give me an idea." 

Galahad raised his brow and took another sip. His mother was not a subtle person and he'd been waiting for her to just ask what was going on. He was actually somewhat surprised it had taken her this long. 

"Really mother, you never asked about Tristan." 

"Darling, one look at him tells the whole story. Your Gawain, however, is a question." she looked him in the eye and sipped her drink delicately. 

"Question?" 

"Yes, dear. He's not your usual sort." 

"What, pray is my usual sort?" 

She chuckled, crunching down on an ice cube. "Gay. Darling, what on earth are you two doing with that boy?" 

"Would you like full details, you prurient old wench?" he giggled. 

She gave him a playful slap. "Yes, but that's not the question I'm asking you right now." 

Galahad laughed and hooked his knee over the arm of the chair and took another long sip. Lady Corben simply smiled at her son and waited. They stared at each other for several beats until Galahad broke. 

"Yes mother, alright. It's a threeway." 

"Darling, I might be old but my eyes still work. I can see that part." 

She raised her brow in the exact way Galahad did and swirled the ice in her glass. Her gaze didn't waiver. Galahad sighed and looked out over the vast expanse of the lawn. 

"It started off as a bit of fun. He's a complete change from Tristan. Very dishy, very despoilable." 

"But." 

"But it's turned into something else." 

"Good. I like this boy, Galahad. Very much. Much more than Tristan, but then that's not too difficult." 

"Mother..." 

"If you make him cry, I will take him away from you and keep him for myself." 

"Does it matter how we make him cry, because he does cry sometimes when we..." 

Galahad paused but his mother made continuing motions. 

"Don't stop there, darling." 

"Mother..." Galahad whined. 

"I mean it, Galahad." 

"I know... " 

\-----  
end 2014 


	22. Haircut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gawain's long locks are lost.

 

 

  


"Don't sulk, Gawain, the hair looks fine."

Gawain was indeed sulking. Tristan had held him down while the barber clipped away his thick mop of hair. He said nothing as gentle thumbs wiped the barest hint of tears from the corners of his eyes while the barber swore and yanked at the braids and knots in Gawain's thick locks. When finished, a foot of hair was gone and Gawain felt exposed

"Arthur has some GQ jobs lined up for us. But we need to look like business men."

"I do look like one. I was the suit remember..." Gawain wibbled slightly but Tristan's smile eased him.

"Now you look like one while not being one," Tristan purred as he trailed his fingers along Gawain's newly exposed neck.

Gawain went slightly pink and shivered at the touch. He blinked as Tristan grinned evilly and leaned in, gasping when teeth slid along his sensitive flesh.

"Oh God..." he clutched at Tristan's shoulders, surprised at how much more intense everything felt against his newly naked neck.

"Mmmmm," Tristan pulled him closer and began to suck bright pink marks under Gawain's ear.

Gawain shuddered and moaned to the sound of giggling. He vaguely registered Galahad helping the barber pack up and leave while Tristan held him tightly in place and savaged his neck. He found he couldn't care too much about the barber because of what Tristan's teeth were doing to him. It was all he could do not to moan shamelessly and climb Tristan like a tree.

"Come on Tristan, make some room."

"Did you get the hair?"

"Yep!" Galahad chirped.

"What? My hair?" Gawain groaned as Tristan shifted into him into Galahad's arms.

"Yes oaf, your hair. A memento."

"We can have matching bracelets," Galahad chuckled as he pulled Gawain into a tongue filled kiss.

"Not until you grow yours out more. Jane is still holding that hank of mine. Let me get this to her before housekeeping tosses it for rubbish."

Tristan shook his head as Galahad's hands rubbed over Gawain's head. His growl was loud and needy as they fell onto the bed. Tristan pulled out his phone and called the messenger service as he wrapped up the long blond locks. His Gawain wouldn't be able to hide behind all that now and it would be interesting to see what happened now he would have to face their new life with his beauty able to be enjoyed by all. It was a bit jealousy inducing to think that others would get to see their personal treasure but if anyone so much as looked like they would lay a hand on him, Galahad would kill them. And that could be extremely entertaining as long as Arthur didn't find out.

\-----  
end 2013

 


	23. The Architect's Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tristan instigates.

  


"Tristan, this is an architect's office, not your lounge."

Tristan merely made a rude noise as he continued to stare at the mirror that was careful tilted in his hand. He sprawled even more on the mid century modern designer object in the hopes of distracting Galahad from staring pointlessly at more drawings. It didn't work, Galahad shook his head and continued to go over the plans in front of him.

"Well it will soon be 'our' lounge though, eh? That is if you ever make a decision. How hard can it be to pick out furniture."

Galahad rolled his eyes and snorted.

"We are nowhere near the furniture picking stage and you know it. I'm trying to get them to layout the space the way we'd want it. Not in the 'interesting' way they keep trying to inflict on me."

Tristan watched him in the mirror make air quotes with a supremely annoyed look on his face.

"Why don't you have your mother do this? You're stressing out for no reason and she will strike terror into their souls and get the job done correctly."

Galahad's expression shifted from wholly stressed to guilty and stressed.

"You stil haven't said anything to her."

"Oh god..." he whined, dropping his head into his hands.

Tristan shook his head and sighed.

"Galahad, what are you thinking? Seriously?"

"Shut up. I know."

"Do you indeed? I have no idea what you are afraid of. She tolerates me with a certain lack of noblesse oblige that tells me she does like me at least a bit rather than simply being nice to accomodate you. She adores Gawain. As evidenced by her whisking him off today."

"I thought you said he'd cry if he had to sit through one more minute of Architectural presentation."

"Does that sound like Gawain in any possible way."

"No it sounds like you."

"Yes, hence my suggestion you have your mother handle this drama before it turns into an Australian soap opera only with less nudity and more hysterical crying. Too much hysterical crying makes my eyes puffy and red. And it makes Gawain upset to see that."

"Do not hold Gawain being upset over me like the fucking sword of Damocles, Tristan."

Tristan ignored him and pulled out his phone. A few swipes of the thumb got him the contact he was looking for and he tapped the call button.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

The rustle of drawings and the scrape of a chair on the plastic anti static mat saved him the trouble of looking into the mirror. Galahad flew across the room but not quite quickly enough. It only rang twice before being picked up. He flicked it onto speakerphone for the humour value.

"Ahhh My Lady. How is your afternoon going?"

"Tristan my dear, It going well. I have Gawain locked in a fitting room. He's unhappy with my choice of speedo, but as he's only going to be picking colours it's not really down to him. So darling. To what do I owe this call?"

Tristan moved like lightening, evading a howling Galahad by leaping over the sofa and grabbing for his hair.

"Your son is having an unpleasant time of it with architects and I was calling to see if you were free to deal with them. Arthur dislikes it so when Galahad get rings under his eyes. The make up people complain too much."

"I thought he wasn't working until next week?"

"He's not. But Gawain and I are on Friday."

"Indeed? So tell me, what does my son need architects for? And is that him howling in the background?"

"OW yes... yes it is," Tristan let Galahad just loose enough to escape his grip an tackle him down.

"Goodbye mother!" He tried to stab at the phone but Tristan's arms were longer than his.

"Galahad, tell me at once what is going on."

They both froze immediately. Tristan was still amazed he had the capacity for any type of fear and that Galahad's mother was the one to bring it up in him. Still he was no fool and knew when he could escape. He shoved the phone into Galahad's hands and slithered away. Galahad looked pitiful but what needed to be done was being done.

"Yes mother. It's the new flat."

"Darling, is this for the three of you?"

"Yes mother..." he squeaked, unable to do anything but speak the truth even when he didn't want to.

"Darling, why didn't you call me? I know how you hate dealing with architects. Tell me about the property."

Tristan sighed in relief as he stood and straightened his suit. He might get his phone back later, if Galahad didn't try to shove it up his arse. Although that could be entertaining in of itself. He grinned as he let himself out, Galahad simply repeating, "yes mother" over and over.

\-----  
end 2013


	24. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a tease.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you now, Gawain?" Tristan asked, as he loosened his tie.

"No..." Gawain squeaked as he pressed himself further back into the sofa.

Tristan grinned and began to unwind the leather braid at his wrist.

"No? Are you sure?" Tristan pursed his lips in mock disappointment.

Gawain sucked in his bottom lip as he watched Tristan undo a few more buttons of his crisp, white shirt. He slid off the sofa and onto his knees, his hands out in front of him, wrists together.

"Good lad," Tristan purred as he wound the leather around Gawain's wrists.

\-----  
end 2013

 


	25. Waiting outside the Architects'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> before a meeting

  


"I swear to God I will kill him when he gets here…" Galahad growled to the sky. His face was screwed up into a scowl as he paced along the pavement.

Tristan was late, again. He didn’t care on jobs, lateness was expected and half of them told Tristan time ahead anyway as they knew how he was. Appointments with his mother, however, were something else entirely. Most especially when he’d asked Galahad to set the thing up and beg for her help. Ok, maybe not beg, but still. He huffed and surveyed the street for any sign. No sign of his tall lover appeared.

He paused when he did spy a familiar walk. He knew it was Gawain by the way his pulse quickened, but how different he looked. His head was high and a wide grin covered his face. Galahad’s expression softened as he shook his head and laughed. Amazing what a haircut and a nice suit could do for a man.

Gawain waved at him and trotted forward, hesitating slightly before leaning in for a kiss. Galahad gently held his head and reciprocated hungrily. They parted lips well before he really wanted to.

"I’m guessing that you being here means Tristan will not be here."

Gawain’s face fell, until Galahad kissed him lightly again and tutted at him.

"No, no, baby I’m thrilled to see you. In more ways than you can know."

Gawain smiled again, his eyes vanishing into his cheeks.

"Yeah?" He dodged Galahad’s swat and straightened his jacket. "Tristan said it was a meeting about the flat."

"And he didn’t want to deal with it."

Gawain looked confused for a moment then twigged. “He said you didn’t want to deal with it and that I should come help you.”

Galahad rolled his eyes and took Gawain by the arm.

"I never realised how terrified he was of my mother until now."

"Oh… are we meeting your mum? Do you know how many speedos she made me try on the other day? I’m telling you, I see where you get it now. She tried to adjust how I was sitting, if you take my meaning, I nearly put a new door in the fitting room… And how did she even get back there? I mean it was the men’s fitting room…"

Gawain continued to chatter as he was led into the Architects’ offices.

\-----  
end 2013

 


	26. Cover Pic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tristan and Gawain enjoy some of Galahad's photos.

"Tristan, look!"

Gawain bounded in waving a magazine wildly. He plopped it gown in Tristan's lap and poked his finger at the page enthusiastically while draping himself over Tristan's shoulder.

"What have we here then?"

His eyes darted over the page. It was from Galahad's latest Burberry shoot, and it was indeed a sight.

"What had him going, eh?"

"I take it you weren't the cause this time," Tristan teased. Gawain blushed and gave Tristan a pinch on his thigh. Tristan grabbed his wrist and pulled his fingers into his mouth. Gawain giggled as Tristan nibbled on the tips of them.

"Not this time. I think this was when we were doing the Addidas thing."

"Well something was interesting," Tristan began to lazily tongue along Gawain's knuckles. "Very interesting, judging by the bend of the pinstripes."

"We should ask him about it," Gawain was a little breathless now.

"Indeed. And if you mean by ask, throwing him down and tickling it out of him, then even more so."

\-----  
end 2013

 


	27. Rattled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath of an an accident

 

Galahad swirled the 15 year old scotch in his glass in the hope the activity would calm him even if the alcohol didn’t. He stared absently into space, trying not to think about anything, let alone the one thing that hovered over him like a pall.

"Galahad. Are you in here?"

Tristan sounded as tired as he looked. There were bags under his eyes even the most determined make up artist wouldn’t be able to hide. He shuffled over and swiped Galahad’s glass out of his reach.

"That’s enough."

Galahad’s sigh turned into a sob as he titled his head up. Tristan’s face was fuzzy around the edges as the tears began to well again in his eyes.

"Come here," Tristan yanked him up from the chair and into his arms.

That was all Galahad needed to crumble. He shook with tears and trembled against his lover’s broad chest. Tristan simply stroked his hair and held him close.

"It’s my fault…" Galahad sobbed.

"No it isn’t, my love. It was just an accident. He’ll be fine."

"He won’t forgive me."

"You know that isn’t true. He will forgive you anything. Me not so much. Fortunately this one isn’t on my head." He squeesed Galahad and kissed the top of his head.

Galahad choked out a laugh and belted Tristan on the shoulder. Tristan just chuckled and held tight.

"Even so, please don’t suggest any more fountain hopping. His skull is like concrete but even that cracks if you hit it enough. And who knows what he did to it before he came to us, mmm? And if it were you who fell… Well you are a delicate Englishman."

Tristan laughed as Galahad kicked him.

"I am not delicate."

"Well I am a viking and he is a burly Australian. You are obviously the most delicate here."

"Fuck you," Galahad snorted, wiping his eyes.

"Not now, my beauty. He is awake and asking for us. We’d best get over there before he charms all the nurses."

"I think you have him confused with you again…"

Tristan laughed and stroked Galahad's cheek, thumbs wiping the last of his tears away.

"Funny how that happens. Now let’s get going."

\-----  
end 2013

 


End file.
